


Uncertainty

by Zhie



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bunniverse, Gen, reborn elf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 06:18:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: Glorfindel returns.





	Uncertainty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the December 2010 JFA Challenge.
> 
> Originally posted 12/23/2010; edited 5/31/2017.

Until now, he had never seen Middle-earth from this direction. Shorelines always had a distinct border, their limits set by the lake they surrounded or the river they hugged. Never before had he seen it this way -- a vast, limitless winding beach that stretched out to either end of the horizon. As he pondered the majesty of it, he realized he was likely the first to have seen it this way. Feanor's people came on ships they stole, with fire in their eyes and in their hearts, and stormed the shores as if all of Middle-earth was Morgoth's domain. Fingolfin's people had taken another path, but it was doubtful that in the tundra they saw any beauty at all.

Perhaps it was only beautiful because he knew he could return in the opposite direction. Free of oaths and curses, he could enjoy what was before him without thoughts of power or revenge. He could look at every tree he saw in the distance and every bird that flew overhead with a single purpose in mind -- that by the grace of the Valar, life had been breathed back into his broken body, and only in life could he enjoy these simple pleasures.

His hand dipped down into the waters of the sea, and he spread out his fingers to feel the chill of the ocean, to feel the liquid run between the digits of his hand and make him smile. The rays of the sun reached out to him, this lonely vessel floating ever closer to the shore in a wide sea of uncertainty. The uncertainty did not lead to fear, as it might for others, for when the uncertainty of death no longer remains a fear, all other fears can be overcome. He turned his face upward and squinted as the light forced him to close his eyes. The call of the gulls was louder now as his little boat rode the tide towards a place once called home that promised to be different now.

He began to think of everything he wished to do when he arrived. There were still people here he had known in his previous life. He knew that Galdor had survived the wars, as had Erestor and Gildor. Earendil, the little boy he had fought so hard to protect, now had an heir whom he was to protect, and rumors abounded that Feanor's second son still wandered Middle-earth. 

Food for his journey had been plain rations of hard bread for travel, and he longed for the succulent desserts that were made by Turgon's pastry chefs. There was one item in particular, and he wondered if anyone might still remember the recipe for cheesecake when he arrived. Music had been sparse in the Halls as he waited; most of the minstrels who were biding their time did not have the heart to sing more than a few laments. He had never played an instrument before, but he felt that this time he should.

There were so many things he thought he should this time around. Gondolin was a fortress he had left but a handful of times, and only with the King's leave. He intended to travel now, to wander, so see all of the lands of Middle-earth and meet all of the people who lived there. He would try foods he had snubbed in youth (perhaps skipping cabbage), and would read all of the books he 'never had time for' before. He would sing in front of an audience, just like Ecthelion told him he should (though his shyness of crowds never permitted it before), and he would teach budding scholars what he knew of math and science, just as Egalmoth had suggested (though his confidence was typically seen only previously on the battlefield).

He made all of these promises to himself as he silently sat, the waves carrying him gently up and down, and ever forward, closer and closer to whatever was waiting for him. Now he could almost swim to the shore if he wanted, but he continued his meditation as the boat rocked him soothingly, like a nervous child in a cradle. What would people say? What would people think? Where would he go? What would he do?

Then, unexpected, the wind picked up. The sail overhead billowed out and caught the breeze, and the boat began to pick up its pace. Faster and faster, until it was gliding across the water, cutting through the gentle waves on a course headed right for a sandy beach on the coast. His arms stretched out, he held onto either side with his fingertips, knuckles turning white. A little prayer was whispered, and to his relief, the sail wilted and the boat slowed just as he approached the shore. He felt the slight impact as the hull of the boat dug into the sand, and then stopped. One arm reached out to steady the boom as it swung slowly towards him, and he climbed out of the boat a moment later.

Bare feet dug into the sand, toes wiggling down into the damp ground. He stepped forward with caution, his legs still unsure from the long journey and from his recent return. On the seventh step he stumbled, and fell to his knees, but did not curse or wish his creator unwell as he might have for such a fall in his previous life. Instead he looked out over the lands, the sandy beach, the steep cliffs, tree-topped hills, and grassy plains nearby. He felt the wind in his hair and tasted the salt of the sea in the air, and dug his hands down into the sand and felt the grains rub up under his fingernails, and wept. No longer Glorfindel of Gondolin, he was Glorfindel Reborn, and he was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure of the Bunniverse order?  
> Check here: [tinyurl.com/bunniverse](https://tinyurl.com/bunniverse)


End file.
